


Again

by noblydonedonnanoble



Series: The Saltwater Room [2]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/noblydonedonnanoble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow the sight of David is not a surprise.</p><p>Based on the song "Again" by Scott Alan, written by request of <a href="http://anearthgirlandaspaceman.tumblr.com/">Elle</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Again

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote my fic Wanderlust as a prequel to a fic that I would maybe write if I ever got around to it. I didn't get around to it, but when Elle requested that I write a fic based on the song "Again" by Scott Alan, I couldn't stop thinking back to Wanderlust while working on it. 
> 
> Basically, Wanderlust and this fic right here are the bookends to a story that I still probably won't end up writing. Feel free to fill in the blanks however you like; it's all fairly flexible.

                From the loo, Catherine hears the door to her suite open and close. A few minutes beforehand, Josephine went on an errand to fetch a pair of stockings from the shop down the road—it figures that Catherine would discover a hole in her own on the morning of the big day. And so she assumes that it is her mother, returned in the nick of time with stockings in hand.

                “Thanks, Mum!” she calls, giving herself one last glance in the mirror before emerging. “I really—”

                It’s not Josephine who she finds in the next room.

                Somehow, the sight of David is not a surprise. He lingers close to the door, hands shoved into his pockets, and as Catherine stares at him from the doorway of the loo, he gives her a hesitant smile. Like he expects her to throw him out any moment.

                “You look beautiful,” he exclaims.

                The compliment, pleasing as it may be, is left hanging in the air. “David,” she says carefully, taking a few steps closer but making sure to leave a sizable gap between them. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

                “I just wanted to have a chat.”

                Catherine raises her eyebrows. “My wedding service is supposed to start in twenty minutes and you thought that now would be a good time for a chat.”

                Evidently, he sees no problem with this. When he shrugs, she lets out a sigh and, with some effort and some rearranging of skirts, Catherine sits on the sofa. “I’m kicking you out when my mum gets back with my stockings.”

                This is plenty more than David expected, so he’s certainly not going to complain. He scuttles over and joins her, taking extra care not to sit on her dress.

                “You really… you _do_ look incredible, Cath.”

                She can’t help smiling this time, in spite of herself. “Thanks, love.”

                No, not ‘love’. That’s not what Catherine wanted to say. She longs to pull the word back. Thankfully David, ever accommodating, disregards it. He didn’t hear it if she didn’t want him to.

                “Picked a nice day for a wedding,” he says next, gesturing toward the window.

                Catherine nods. “Couldn’t have planned it better if we had tried.”

                She wishes that David would get to the point, rather than making idle chatter. But he seems intent on postponing the inevitable. “And I’m a big fan of the place you chose for the reception, too. It’s quite… it’s quite lovely.”

                “Right.”

                He falls silent, evidently out of irrelevant remarks. And Catherine quickly tires of waiting for him to address whatever’s actually on his mind. “David, why are you here?” She tries her best to sound assertive, but can’t help it when her voice shakes.

                “I’m not sure,” he confesses.

                Figures. David’s always been impulsive, always been one to jump into things and decide what he’ll do once he’s already in over his head. It’s one of Catherine’s favorite and least favorite things about him—depending on when you’re asking. And right now, she finds it decidedly more irritating than charming. “Work it out, then, go on.”

                He flounders about for an explanation, but words seem to fail him. For the first time since they sat down together, Catherine allows herself to look him in the eye. She sees desperation there, a profound sadness that she can’t quite pinpoint. And she immediately regrets being so harsh.

                “Oh, stop stammering,” she mutters, grabbing his hand and squeezing tightly. “I know why you’re here. You don’t have to explain.”

                She knows, because she couldn’t help doing something similar, on the eve of his wedding. She wonders if he feels the encroaching sense of doom that she felt then, wonders if he’s tried to push it away. Maybe with drinking, she muses.

                Against her better judgment, she bridges the gap between them and rests her head on his shoulder, curling up against him. David immediately winds his arm around her. They sit in silence.

                “Do you remember when you asked me to run away with you?” Catherine asks after some time.

                David’s eyes light up. “How could I forget?”

                “You weren’t joking, were you?”

                He shakes his head, frowning slightly. “No. I’d have dropped everything for you. I... I still would, you know. Just say the word; we could still go live with the penguins in Antarctica.”

                “Too cold.”

                “Fair enough.” David kisses the crown of her head. “Highlands, then.”

                “Back to the old country,” Catherine says, teasing.

                “Very funny.” When she says nothing in response—just giggles—David sighs deeply. He begins to play with her hair, stroking his fingers through it, and it’s some time before this clicks in his head. “You’re wearing your hair down?”

                Catherine becomes suddenly self-conscious, reaching up to touch the strands herself. Her fingers brush his hand and linger there. “Yeah. He said that he doesn’t really care whether it’s down or up, and I figured I’d just rather not go through the hassle.”

                “I like it down,” David murmurs.

                “I know you do.” That’s why she did it, to make him ache just a little bit more.

                Another stretch of silence. Then, from Catherine, “You should probably go before my mum gets back.”

                David pouts. “But I thought you said I could stay.”

                “Could, not should. I figured I would cover my bases.”

                “Ah.” He shifts and bends his head, nuzzling her softly where her throat meets her jaw. “Would you like me to leave? I’ll depart when you bid me.”

                She giggles. “Stay but ‘til then.”

                “‘Then’ is spoken. Fare you well.”

                “Don’t you dare.” Although he’s already half-standing, Catherine tugs him down, and promptly curls up against him again. “I’d like to sit with you a while longer.”

                “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

                “For fifteen minutes, then.”

                He makes a show of clearing his throat and checking his watch. “Fifteen minutes? Well, I can think of a few ways we could make use of that time.”

                Catherine rolls her eyes and shoves him lightly. “Cheeky. I’m going to be a married woman soon.”

                “I’d nearly forgotten. Shame.”

                The vibe in the room doesn’t stay playful for long; she can’t help but remember that marriage hasn’t been much of a deterrent to David so far. She bites her lip and she tries to ignore the nagging feeling in her gut that she’s doing something profoundly wrong.

                “Would anything have possessed you to say yes?” He’s prepared for her quizzical gaze, because he quickly adds, “To running away with me.”

                She shakes her head. “No.” Her eyes fall to her lap. “Although…”

                “Although?”

                “I wish I had, sometimes. We would have been happy together, yeah?”

                David exhales slowly. “Yeah. I think so.”

                “Good.”

                The door opens, and Josephine steps in, peering down at her mobile as she says, “Darling, I’m sorry but they didn’t have quite the—” She falters at the sight of Catherine and David on the sofa together. “Oh, David! What a lovely surprise.”

                “Hullo, Josephine. I was… just leaving, though. Just wanted to give the bride some preemptory congratulations.” He kisses Catherine on the cheek lightly. “Break a leg.”

                She watches him from her seat, and her breath catches in her throat when he turns back at the door. “By the way, Catherine, you really do look stunning.”

                Bugger. She wishes that charming smile didn’t warm her heart quite so much.


End file.
